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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23223895">What Counts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dexter (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>8x12, Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Aphasia, Brain Damage, Debra Morgan Lives, Episode: s08e12 Remember the Monsters?, F/M, Fix-It, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Season/Series 08, it's debra/quinn but like not super shippy they just end up together lol, stroke, stroke recovery</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:34:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,234</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23223895</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After suffering a stroke, Debra Morgan struggles to learn how to speak and walk again. Picking up the pieces of her broken life isn't so easy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Debra Morgan/Joey Quinn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>What Counts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hi! i just finished rewatching dexter and the ending SUCKS imo (at least in regards to debra dying) so i wrote a fic where she recovers because it's my city now and i make the rules. this is kind of an angsty fix-it fic but it's not too heavy haha, it ends happy enough. please let me know what you think in the comments, this is my first shot at Dexter fanfic :-)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Debra wakes up. Against all odds, she fucking wakes up, and it's not poetic. It's not beautiful or cinematic like some heartwarming family movie where the coma patient wakes up surrounded by her loved ones and comes home all fine and dandy. It's fucking horrifying, eyes snapping open and flitting around the hospital room in confusion. Only she doesn't know it's a hospital room, doesn't even remember what one looks like. She throws herself from the bed kicking and screaming, but her legs won't work in spite of how bad she wants to run.</p><p>It's like she's brand new to the world, reborn in the shittiest kind of way, confused and angry and so, <em> so </em> fucking afraid. Someone comes into the room, but it's a person she doesn't recognize, some lady that grabs onto her and says something completely incomprehensible. She helps Debra back into bed, even though she doesn't want to be there.</p><p>Deb can tell by the cadence of her voice that she's trying to placate her. It's an attempt at soothing, like she's talking to a baby. It pisses Debra off, but she's in far too much pain to protest.</p><p>They must drug her up with some kind of sedative, because she goes to sleep shortly afterward. That's fine, because she didn't really want to be awake anyway.</p><p>The first visitor she gets is Joey. Under normal circumstances, she'd be happy to see him. Being like this, though? She's never been a fan of showing her vulnerability around others, and <em> fuck </em> if she isn't vulnerable right now.</p><p>When he sees her, he says something softly, maybe it's her name, but it's hushed and broken and raises pitch at the end like it's a question. He's crying as he rushes to her side, cupping her face in his hands and <em> god, </em> she can't help but cry too. She sobs, wrapping her arms around him and <em> ugly crying </em> like never before --- and she only cries harder when she feels him press his lips to her head in a manner so <em> sweet </em> she's not sure she even deserves it.</p><p>When all the crying dies down enough for conversation, he pulls a chair up to her hospital bed and places a hand onto hers. She grasps Quinn's hand tightly as he begins to speak.</p><p>It's not like he isn't speaking English, Debra <em> knows </em> there are words coming out of his mouth, and by all logic she should understand them. Yet, it's just impossible to comprehend. He says a statement, a long and probably heartfelt one, and then asks her a question.</p><p>"I don't understand a fucking word you're saying," Debra tries to respond, but instead of that coming out of her, she just babbles out something that sounds like <em> uhhhfwuhhh</em>. Hearing her own voice, she makes a distraught face, shaking her head. <em> No, dumbass. Get it together. That's not a word. </em></p><p>Joey holds her hand tighter and says another thing, visibly worried about her. The thought occurs to Debra that everyone might just be fucking around with her and playing some elaborate joke, but if that were the case, she wouldn't be in on it with her lack of ability to form words.</p><p>It's extremely goddamn upsetting.</p><p>"I need help," Debra tries to tell Joey, but she can't even understand herself when she speaks. It’s all just babble, like something a baby would say but it sounds fucking pathetic when it comes out of her own voice.The frustration makes her cry out loud, raking her hands over her face. Joey squeezes her hand, his brows knit together in worry as he stands up. Deb is terrified he's going to leave her until he picks up a notepad and pen from across the room and hands it to her.</p><p>She begins to write, but it's incredibly difficult to do so. The end result is scrawled, scribbled and barely readable. It looks like something Harrison might write, and the grammar isn't great, but they're at least real words.</p><p>
  <em> What the fuck wrong with me? </em>
</p><p>Joey starts to speak again, but Debra quickly puts her fingers over his lips, shaking her head. She cannot understand spoken words, she needs him to <em> write </em> out his response.</p><p><em> The doctors say you had a stroke</em>, Quinn quickly writes back to her. She can tell by his writing that his hands are shaking. He’s clearly quite distraught over the situation, and Debra can relate.</p><p>A stroke? <em> Sweet shitting baby Jesus</em>. That's the last thing Debra wants to hear; it terrifies her to think about it. Tears well in her eyes all over again as she takes the notepad back and writes a response. It’s hard to see what she’s writing and it’s honestly a miracle that it ends up even remotely legible.</p><p>
  <em> Can't understand you. </em>
</p><p>Joey puts a supportive hand on her shoulder, looking into her eyes. Debra can't manage eye contact. She shoves the notepad back to him.</p><p><em> They said you got something called Aphasia, </em> he replies in writing. <em> It happens when the left brain gets damaged. They're gonna start speech therapy for you soon. </em></p><p>Debra can feel her head spinning and her heart rate skyrocketing, her anxiety through the fucking roof. Grabbing the notebook again, she writes with increasing desperation.</p><p>
  <em> Where's Dexter? </em>
</p><p>This gets a puzzled look from Joey, and he shakes his head, making a confused gesture with his hand. He's got to be fucking with her, right?</p><p>Debra taps at the notepad, jabbing her finger against the paper. She writes it again, <em> Dexter. I need see him. Where the fuck is he? </em></p><p>Quinn hesitantly grabs the paper back.</p><p>
  <em> Deb, I don't get it. You want a chair? </em>
</p><p>Reading this, Debra glares pointedly at Joey. <em> Dexter </em> , she writes again. <em> Cut the bullshit, dude. </em></p><p>Joey once again replies, <em> That says chair. </em></p><p>Debra looks at her own writing and lets out a frustrated groan. She tries to write Dexter's name again, but lo and behold, it just fucking says <em> chair </em>. As hard as she tries, she can't even write her own brother's name.</p><p><em> My brother, </em> she writes. That should be a bit more straightforward. <em> I want see brother. </em></p><p>Recognition sets in Joey's features. "Oh," he replies, which is the only thing Debra actually understands considering it's such an easy and universal word. Still, he writes back, <em> Have you not seen him? </em></p><p>Deb shakes her head, frowning pensively. It's just like Dexter, to be fucking late to everything, including his own goddamn sister's stroke recovery. It's complicated with him; logically, she should hate him, because he ruined her goddamn life, but love has a weird way of working. All the times he's saved her and helped her through tough times came to mind. Dexter saving her from Rudy --- <em> no, Brian </em> --- comes to mind. She really does not know how to feel, other than obviously conflicted.</p><p><em> I'll tell him to bring his ass over here</em>, Joey writes in response.</p><p>Debra nods, appreciative of his willingness to advocate for her, especially now that she probably isn't capable of making a phone call or sending a coherent text. It's hard to accept it, but she's going to need a lot of help after what she went through.</p><p>For a while, Quinn falls silent as he sits there with her, his eyes gazing out the window as he quietly takes in the situation. It's a lot to process for Debra, too. Setting the notepad down on her lap, she grabs a hold of Quinn's hand, feeling how he's still shaking. Gently and affectionately, she rubs her thumb against the back of his hand in a weak attempt to comfort him, as if he's the one who needs comforting more. Shit, maybe he is, given how distraught he looks right now.</p><p>Joey looks down at their hands, and then his teary gaze meets Debra's. It breaks her heart to see <em> him </em> like this, and yet all the same, it's a sign that he does really love her. Most guys would take one look at her in this situation and turn the fuck around, but here <em> he </em> is looking at her like she hangs the stars in the sky even though she can't even say the word <em> star. </em></p><p>Her free hand reaches over to tug at his shirt, pulling him closer to her face. Their lips are mere inches apart and she can feel his shallow breath on her. Lingering like that for not a moment longer, she closes the space between them to give him a needy kiss. She moans softly against him as she runs her fingers through his short hair, tugging him even closer that he may press up against her. Quinn kisses her back, but he abruptly pulls away after a moment, looking concerned for her.</p><p>"Why'd you stop?" Debra whines impatiently, though it sounds more like ‘<em>whastop?’ </em> than the actual words. Close enough, and it gets the point out as best as she can.</p><p>Joey places his hand gently on her shoulder, speaking to her deliberately slowly. "Are… you… okay?"</p><p>This time she can tell what he's saying, thank god, and she responds by quickly nodding and tugging at the collar of his shirt, as if to ask for more. He kisses her again, but this time it feels intentionally gentle and cautious, as if she'll <em> shatter </em> or something if he kisses her too hard. It's not necessary, but it's sweet, and it gives her the affection she so desperately needs.</p><p>She wants him to stay here and never leave. Unfortunately, he has to go to work.</p><p><em> I'll come back to you, </em> he writes her, looking her in the eye as he pauses between replying, <em> I fucking promise. </em></p><p>The use of profanity gets a sad little laugh out of her, because he's gotta know how bad it is for her to not be able to swear. Debra gives Joey one more kiss goodbye before he goes.</p><p>The hospital room feels so terribly lonely once he's gone. Sinking back against the hospital bed, she locates the button to administer pain meds. The medication fills her veins and feels like gold, hitting her with instant euphoria that numbs her aching bullet wound, and she falls back to sleep.</p><p>She wakes up to see Dexter right there by her hospital bed, looking greatly concerned.</p><p>"Deb?" He's clear and understandable when he says her name, voice cracking audibly. He says another difficult to understand thing and Debra quickly gestures to the notepad. No point in wasting his breath when his spoken words aren’t going to make any sense.</p><p><em> I can't understand words all that fucking well</em>, she writes to him. Dexter has a look of understanding on his face as he gives her a response.</p><p>
  <em> That's okay. We can talk like this. Are you okay? </em>
</p><p>Debra scoffs. <em> Fucking peachy, </em> she writes back. <em> What happen to Saxon? </em> Not much of a point in asking, maybe; she can already guess what's coming.</p><p>Dexter's expression sobers.</p><p>
  <em> I did what I had to. Self defense. </em>
</p><p>Inhaling shakily, Debra nods in acknowledgment, running her eyes. Maybe it's for the fucking best, after everyone that piece of shit hurt and killed. Just one more monster for Dexter to save her from.</p><p><em> Good. What now?  </em>Debra writes to him. She know that Dexter was going to leave Miami; she’s not sure what’s going to happen at this point.</p><p>Dexter hesitates, his eyebrows furrowing. It's a moment before he replies, <em> Now, you just need to rest. </em></p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>A speech therapist starts coming to see her on a daily basis. It's this condescending older woman who brings in a big chart full of colorful pictures and easy words that Debra already knows. The only problem is getting them out there. She doesn’t know why it’s so easy to think words, and yet next to impossible to speak them.</p><p>"Here's a good one," the woman says, pointing to a cartoony picture of a car on the chart. "This is <em> car. C-A-R. </em> Can you try saying it?"</p><p>Debra wants to say she'll shove her <em> foot </em> up her ass for treating her like she's stupid. However, that's way too many words for her, so she attempts to go along anyways.</p><p>"Cuh… Carn." She frowns. "Carn. <em> Carn. </em> " <em> Goddamn it. </em></p><p>What's more embarrassing is that Joey is right there next to her, giving her an encouraging look like she's doing an amazing job. At least she's beginning to understand people much better now, even if she can't say shit on her own.</p><p>"Hey, that's good," Joey says reassuringly, touching her hand in a sweet and affectionate manner. "You're pretty close." Not that Debra agrees with that, but it’s sweet that Joey adores her as much as he does.</p><p>Frustrated, Deb shakes her head in disagreement. No, she <em>sucks </em> at this.</p><p>"That's okay," the speech therapist reassures her. "You're doing good. Let's move onto another word. <em> Apple. A-P-P-L-E. </em> Can you try that one?"</p><p>"Asshole," Debra replies flatly. It earns a stifled laugh from Joey.</p><p>The woman frowns. "Well, <em> no…" </em> She shakes her head. "But you have the gumption, I suppose. I have no doubt that you'll be able to relearn the majority of your vocabulary with continued work."</p><p>Joey gives her hand a supportive squeeze. "That's what I like to hear." He smiles at Deb. "You'll be back to tellin' people to go fuck themselves in no time."</p><p><em> Can't wait, </em> Debra jots down in response.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Mobility ends up being an issue, too. She isn't able to walk much at all after what happened and ends up needing a wheelchair. In time, she starts going to physical therapy which the doctors tell her will increase the likelihood of her being able to eventually walk on her own. It hurts like hell and leaves her feeling like shit once it's done, but it gets a little bit easier each time. </p><p>Baby steps count, right?</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>"Let's practice your name: Debra Morgan. I'd like to hear you try."</p><p>Oh, this is gonna sound terrible. Deb already knows it before she's even tried. Still, practice is what's gonna get her to a better place eventually, so she makes the attempt no matter how stupid she's afraid she'll sound.</p><p>
  <em>"Debber Mogen."</em>
</p><p>Dexter is there with her this session. "That's in the ballpark, right?"</p><p>Deb rolls her eyes, clearly not satisfied with her own shortcomings.</p><p>"And how about your brother's name, Dexter Morgan?"</p><p>"Chair Morgan."</p><p>"Still on about me being a chair, huh?" Dexter appears mildly amused. "I never understood the comparison."</p><p>It frustrates her that she can't even say her own brother's name. "Chair," she tries again, planting her face in her palms. <em> "Chair. </em> No, fuck." Why can't she get anything right? She looks to Dexter apologetically, ashamed of herself.</p><p>"Hey, it's fine, Deb," he tells her. "You can't get it all right in a day. <em> Chair </em> isn't the worst thing you've called me."</p><p>Debra manages a small smile.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Some days are worse than others --- much, much worse. She'll wake up screaming from nightmares with nobody around to comfort her and no one to understand what she's trying to say. On those days, she almost wishes she hadn't made it out alive.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The hospital discharges Debra long before she feels ready for it. By this point, she's grasped a very limited vocabulary and even picked up some ASL, which Joey was adamant about learning with her. He tries way too hard for her when she doesn't feel she deserves it, and he even ends up moving in with her. Dexter offered the same gesture, offering his home while he was still in Miami, but with Harrison around, she didn't think it'd be the best idea.</p><p>Plus, she doesn't want to live under the same roof as her <em> serial killer brother. </em> Even if they've patched things up, the trauma is still hard to handle.</p><p>Quinn practices words with her every day, which, combined with weekly sessions with the speech therapist, helps Debra progress a little bit. Even if she can't speak in full sentences yet, she's at least able to convey basic needs and emotions.</p><p>At night, Joey lays with her and holds her close. One night, she can't help but ask him about it all.</p><p>"Why do this for me?" She asks softly, turning to him as they lie together. "Why help me? I don't…" it takes her a moment to remember the word. "Don't deserve."</p><p>Joey just leans in to kiss her, running a hand through her long brown hair. "I love you," he tells her in a gentle and soothing tone. "You deserve the whole world, you know that. I know you don’t think that you’re a good person and all, but you definitely are."</p><p>Tears well in Debra's eyes. She feels like a fraud or some shit, like her continued existence isn't even genuine at this point. "Love you, too." She has for a long time, even if she can't come to love herself very much.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>One day, Dexter comes to see her. Debra knows this has been coming, as it'd been planned before Deb's whole <em> getting shot </em> incident, but she didn't think that Dexter would leave now. She knows it's about to happen the moment he stops by.</p><p>"You're leaving."</p><p>Dexter falters. "How'd you know?"</p><p>Deb just rolls her eyes, shaking her head. "Dex, I might have a brain injury but I'm not stupid. I knew this was coming."</p><p>"I know, I just wanted to wait until I knew you were okay," Dexter tells her. "You've come a long way."</p><p>"Yeah, I have. I'm finally speaking in complete fucking sentences." Plenty of speech therapy made sure of that; there are still times she forgets words and even doesn't understand others, but it's gotten better. She can even walk again --- well, she uses a walker, which kind of makes her look like a grandma, but it's not a source of shame for her. Not really.</p><p>"So, are you?" Her brother looks at her expectantly.</p><p>"Am I <em> what?" </em></p><p>"Are you going to be okay?"</p><p>Debra manages a smile. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Go. Be happy in Argentina." It's bittersweet, and without a doubt sad. "You better call and write. I'm gonna miss the shit out of you, big brother." Even if he is a serial killer, even if they both have incredibly fucked up lives. She's going to miss him with all her heart.</p><p>She pulls him into a hug, her eyes welling with tears.</p><p>"I love you," she tells him.</p><p>Rare as it is, Dexter replies with an, "I love you, Deb."</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Debra watches the waves roll along the beach by her house. It's a new day, beautiful and sunshiny. It'll be a while before she's able to go back into work, and that's under the assumption she'll even want to. Danger has lost its appeal to her, as much as she loves fighting the food fight and getting horrible people behind bars. Truthfully, she doesn't really know what to do with the rest of her life at this point. She misses the shit out of her brother and the damage done by the stroke weighs on her all the time.</p><p>But it's a beautiful day, and she's alive right now after everything. Joey made dinner reservations for them to go somewhere nice tonight, and she’ll go to bed and wake up to a brand new morning. Debra will continue to live, even when the odds were against her. Maybe that alone is what counts.</p><p> </p>
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